


sefirot

by Anonymous



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, canon tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 10:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19439284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: canon divergent hahahaha





	sefirot

Your hands feel sweaty, and you’re tempted to discretely wipe them on your pants, but then you remember you’re not wearing your pants, and that the liquid around you is probably more wet then the small tear of sweat in your palm. You feel stupid, but don’t let your mind linger on that. There’s more important. You’re used to feeling stupid.

You vaguely hear Asuka grumbling something about staying focused, you try to mumble back an answer but your throat feels too tight. It results in a pathetic sound, but apparently Asuka didn’t expect much more because she shouts back a determined cheer. A crisp smile makes its way to your lips, your hands gripping the handles even harder. You remind yourself that you don’t have pants, and can’t wipe the sweat.

When all is over, the taste of blood still lingers in your mouth. You let that feeling sink, as your body moves on autopilot to the showers. You don’t feel like talking to anyone today, and fail to remember the last time you did. Today’s only difference is the fact that, since everything went smoothly, you needn’t hear Misato’s reprimand. Not a reprimand, you try to remind yourself. Just advice. 

You bite your lip, and for a second almost consider biting through it, to truly taste the blood, but hold yourself back at the last second. You don’t like the taste of blood. You sigh, your casual clothes finally on. The sun is already low, but you don’t feel like going home. A small voice in the back of your head reminds you you should cook tonight, and a feeling of guilt overwhelms you for a second. But it’s gone as soon as it came. Whatever, it’s not like anyone will miss you. 

You walk, a minute, an hour, maybe more, you loose count. It’s unlike you, not taking the train. You wonder what’s supposed to be like you, but after a painful minute you decide it’s best not to think about it. You slow down your pace, vaguely aware of your labored breaths. You don’t want to think about it. But you also do, you let the feeling of panic overwhelm you, let it become one with yourself. This at least feels real. You taste the blood, you see the blood. You clench your fists, taking deep short breaths, trying to focus on this feeling, this helplessness. 

You shut your eyes, but then you see yourself killing, tearing, eating, dismembering and you’re afraid it has become your reality. 

A feather light touch snaps you out of it, and you wonder if you ever were gone at all. You turn your head in the direction of the touch, and fall face to face with a guy your age. You try to even your breathing, your surroundings suddenly coming to life again. It helps. Focus. You feel confused, the guy is still looking at you like an alien.

“-okay?”

You blink, looking at the guy’s lips as they move. You haven’t been listening. For once, you can acknowledge that doing so is very much like you. It’s reassuring, in a way. It’s reassuring to know what makes you you, is how pathetic you are. 

Apparently this guy thinks it’s amusing, because he starts smiling. It prompts you to move, to say something, anything. “Er, sorry.” You pat yourself on the pat for your eloquence. Really, you’re as good as a five years old, congrats. You drop your eyes, hoping you’re better at faking being interested in the ground. You hear a breathy sound, and register it as a quiet laugh. You almost look up.

Almost. This time your ears catch up with your brain. “See you around then.” You frown. What does this guy mean? The curiosity gets the better of you, but by the time you look up there’s no one in sight.

Maybe you hallucinated the whole thing. The taste of blood is gone. You think you’re thankful for the guy, even if he wasn’t really there. You walk home, quietly.

__

“I hate you! I hate everything about you!” You flinch, and try to suppress the disgusted look on your face. You already know that, it doesn’t mean she should say it. You try to feel angry, but you’re just upset. Asuka is fuming, and at the lack of response she storms out. You entertain the idea of asking her why she’s being so mean today, but you’re not quite that masochist yet. If you wanted to hear the long list of everything that is wrong with you, you’d simply take a nap.

Instead you opt for going out of the apartment for today, to let Asuka cool down. You don’t know what you did to anger her that much, so it isn’t your problem anymore. She knows how to take care of herself. Or at least, that’s the lie you tell yourself, cause that’s prettier than the truth. You consider trying to see if someone is free to hang out, but they probably have better to do. You wish you knew how to guess if your presence is welcomed. Whatever, even you don’t like your own presence, why should they. It’s a slippery slope, you avoid thinking about that too much as you walk down the street. 

The cashier lady at the convenience store doesn’t recognize you, or at least doesn’t show any sign that she does. You mumble some automatic polite formula, take your bags full of groceries and walk out of the store. It hasn’t been long, but you hope it was enough to let Asuka know he won’t bother her any more today. You stand still, outside, letting the sun kiss your skin in a way you’d almost call enjoyable.

“Isn’t that too heavy?”

This time the voice doesn’t surprise you as much, but your head swirls around just as quickly. It’s him. The same guy. He doesn’t look any different than last time. You wonder if he’s stalking you. 

Silence weighs heavy. You replay the words you definitely heard this time in your head. You feel your cheeks heat up, cause it’s just too embarrassing really. It makes it sound like you’re too weak to hold the bags, even if it might be true under other circumstances you like to think you can handle yourself. You hurry to prove it, but the crack in your voice doesn’t help making it sound believable. “N-no! I mean, it’s fine.” You hate when you do that. You stop your mind right there, taking a deep breath.

The guy smiles, apparently it’s all he’s able to do, cause he was already doing it last time you saw him. Last time? So that wasn’t your imagination. Unless this is yet again another illusion, you have no way to know. But you’re not about to die any second now, so you guess it doesn’t matter much. You look away, once more. It doesn’t stop the guy. “Special occasion?”

You furrow you brows, trying to decipher the meaning of that. Special occasion? Since when is buying groceries a special occasion? You look at the bags once more, and then it hits you it’s probably weird to see how much you’ve bought, alone. You feel embarrassed, once again, at your own stupidity. “Oh no, it’s nothing really.” Good job, you managed one sentence without sounding like a total dumbass. 

Oblivious of your self deprecation, the guy takes small steps in your direction, the smile never leaving his lips. You almost walk away, but that would be rude, and you want to prove Asuka that you’re not, contrary to popular belief. You only grimace at the sudden proximity. It doesn’t seem to bother the guy though. You realize, a little late, that you let yourself watch him during the last minute. “Need any help?” You stare. The tone of his voice is kind, but his eyes are sly, you finally understand the words and implications, and finally step back.

“No!” You surprise yourself by the intensity of the reaction. Now you look plain rude. You’re disappointed in yourself, but you find yourself not caring. You keep your eyes glued to the ground, cheeks flaming hot in embarrassment. You really did it, you’re even worse than you thought. No wonder no one likes you. You feet walk on their own, you don’t spare a single glance behind. When you eventually do, there’s no trace of the guy. Illusion or not, you think it’s a bit irritating. You roll your eyes. The guy didn’t even do anything mean spirited. You think you got closer to understanding Asuka.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr : neonjoynesis.tumblr.com (in construction)
> 
> thank you for reading!


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